


Long Distance

by juniperpines



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperpines/pseuds/juniperpines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Riker seeks out an old friend. A/U ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Distance

They had turned around that morning, and he couldn't relax.

“Computer, light jazz, mid-20th century.” The quiet of the dimly lit ready room was dispelled with the computer’s choice of a soft tune, but not to Riker’s satisfaction. “Less… generic.”

“Invalid parameters. Please restate request.”

He sighed and leaned back in the creaking desk chair. “Less generic… less pedestrian. More personality.”

“Unable to complete request. Please refine within the following categories. Acid jazz, avant-garde, bebop, big band, bossa nova--”

“Computer, cancel request.” He rubbed the heel of his closed hand against his temple, pondering the screen in front of him and the question of the completed form. It was what he had been doing every spare moment since the idea had attacked him that morning and refused to let go.

Crazy or not, ill-advised or not, wasting an entire day over a decision was not his command style, he thought with self-disgust. He punched the button, sending the request through, and escaped back to the engineering logs he was reviewing. If she decided to answer it at all, it could take some time for her to notice the message; not everyone in the galaxy was as tied to their consoles as Starfleet officers.

Still, part of him was primed and alert for a response, and that part rung like a bell when the message system chimed about fifteen minutes later. He swallowed his second guesses, remembering to run his fingers through his hair before accepting the subspace transmission.

The black screen switched immediately, filling with a picture of an office not so very different from his, though it was backlit with natural light streaming through a side window. A moment later Deanna Troi sat down in front of the monitor. Her curly hair was loose over her shoulders and civilian dress, held by a clip that was only a gesture toward taming it. “Well, this is unexpected.” Her voice was as musical as he remembered, a teasing lilt lifting her serious demeanor. “What can I do for the captain of the Aries?”

 _God, she’s beautiful,_ Will thought with a rush, shifting forward. The passing years that had begun to take a toll on his own looks suited her. He had to catch himself from lifting a hand to touch the screen. “How are you, Deanna?”

“I’m well, generally. My practice is going well.”

"What about other things? Are you seeing anybody?"

She lowered her eyes, laughing at his audacity. "A couple of people." He guessed he deserved that. "No one special. How about you?"

He spread his hands in front him, empty. "The life of a captain. It's lonely at the top."

"Right," she laughed, although his words were truer than she knew. He hadn't lost his taste for female companionship nor his playboy reputation, but as captain he couldn't carry on the way he did earlier in his career. Her dark eyes, which had been so innocent and feeling when he knew her, now seemed richer with experience, but not troubled. “I have to admit that right now, what I am most is deeply curious…”

“Believe it or not, I was hoping for some advice.” It was a relentlessly hollow feeling that rolled in him whenever he thought about the reason. “I have a decision to make, and I needed someone to talk to about it.”

“A career decision,” she guessed.

“Yeah.” He swallowed thickly, aware of how awkward the request was, though Deanna looked unphased. “I’ve been recalled and offered another command. I can’t decide whether to take it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” He scrubbed his fingers through the hair at his temple. “It’s a great posting, a step forward for me. It seems like a no-brainer.”

“Something tells me if it really was so simple, you wouldn’t be talking to me right now,” she pointed out gently.

“The Enterprise.”

“Oh, Will.” If it had been the old days, he would have felt her compassion, tangible like nothing else in his universe, a memory that haunted him sometimes when the captain’s chair became a lonely and isolating place. When there were a graveyard of ships scattered around a neighbor star, when it seemed like Starfleet's mission of exploration would be corrupted into endless preparations for war. “I can see why that would be difficult for you.”

“Can you? No one else I’ve talked to seems to understand at all.”

Deanna didn’t seem surprised by that either. “All of Starfleet must be in shock after the losses at Wolf 359. I heard it was a full twenty percent of the fleet.”

“They’re promoting junior lieutenants left and right to make up it. It would have been more if the crew of the Enterprise hadn’t managed to stop the cube, under Lieutenant Commander Shelby. She’s already a legend back at headquarters. Why they didn’t give it to her…”

“Why would they give the flagship to her, when they could give the Enterprise to someone like you who already has command experience?”

“She was there, in battle. She proved herself when it really counted. Where was I? Charting another nebula in some backwater sector that no one will visit again for a hundred years?” His inner voice had been harping on him for months without outlet, full of the same petulant self-recrimination.

“So what if you were? That was your mission, wasn’t it? And if you’re feeling dissatisfied with having been in deep space during the action, why would you turn down a chance to command the flagship? It will give you every opportunity to be in the middle of things.”

He shook his head, let his eyes drift over to his tiny slice of the starfield through the window as the Aries sped Earthward. “You always were so goddamn logical.”

“I don’t think Shelby is the reason you’re hesitating, though.” He looked back sharply, taunted by her observant dark eyes, the knowledge he sought and avoided. “You know, Mother still does diplomatic work as a Federation ambassador. She invited me to a reception when the Enterprise was at Betazed for a trade conference a few months before the Borg attack, and I had the chance to meet Jean-Luc Picard. He spoke very highly of you, Will.”

Will exhaled, a hint of forced laughter on his lips covering the void at the mention of his former captain, the reminder of the flesh and blood man and not the half-cybernetic martyr. “You talked about me? That’s a scary thought.”

Deanna’s eyes cut away as she smiled a little. “He mentioned his former first officer had been stationed on Betazed once. It wasn’t too difficult to make the connection. He was proud of you, of what you had accomplished on the Enterprise, and said you were bound to do great things with your own command. Even though he wasn’t sure at first if you were going to take it.”

“It was what I always said I wanted. And I sacrificed a lot for that goal,” he admitted. “But I turned down another command to be first officer of the Enterprise. Being XO on a ship like that, with a crew like that…”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“Don’t I?”

For the first time, Deanna looked less than comfortable with the conversation. “No, you don’t. I studied psychology with Starfleet, don’t forget. A crew can become like a family. A good situation can be difficult to leave... even if the change does further your own goals.”

“So what does that have to do with my current dilemma.”

“I think you feel guilty,” she said simply. “I think you would have died for Picard. You wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t left, whether you would have been able to save him from an awful death that stripped him of his humanity. And I think you feel as though you are benefiting from your own disloyalty now.”

“That’s a lot of assumptions.”

“You don’t have to tell me I’m right, but tell me if I’m wrong.”

He was silent.

“The thing is, Will, none of us know where our decisions will lead. And you know as well as I that you can’t make yourself responsible for the consequences that are outside your control. Don’t let a fantasy of what you may or may not have been able to do for Jean-Luc Picard get in the way of your choices now. He wanted to see you move on and do great things. For what it’s worth, I think he would have been pleased to know you were his successor. And I know you will do him proud.”

“You seem awfully sure of your persuasive abilities,” he said, the check on his ego not without its sting.

She smiled, the spark of something tender in it. “Or maybe... even years later... I just know you.”

Will felt the warmth. “I’m glad you had a chance to meet him. He was a great man, maybe the best I’ve ever known. The kind we can’t afford to lose.”

“And yet we do lose them. And we go on. And sometimes in losing them, they become more a part of us than if they were still with us.” He thought she was going to go on, but a bell chimed in her office. She glanced over her shoulder and turned back regretfully. “That’s my next appointment."

The suddenness of it slammed up against him. “Thank you, Deanna. This is... this is more than I deserve.”

She colored a little, but shied away from his sentiment. "I have to tell you, I'm still not fond of good-byes," she said instead.

"What was it you used to say?"

"Until next time."

"Until next time," he echoed.

She reached for the monitor, and then said with an impish smile, "By the way... I like the beard."

The screen went inky black, the vast expanse of space between them visceral, filled with wonderful and terrible things. "Next time."


End file.
